


Her Garden of Unspoken Words

by imaginarydaydreams



Category: Mystic Messenger (Video Game)
Genre: Angst, F/M, Heavy Angst, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Modified Hanahaki Disease AU, implied PTSD
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-01
Updated: 2019-06-02
Packaged: 2019-07-24 01:01:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,373
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16170374
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/imaginarydaydreams/pseuds/imaginarydaydreams
Summary: She couldn't keep lying to him like this; it was slowly killing her.Literally.But she would rather die due to the flowers blooming from her despair than break his heart.





	1. Anemones and Snowdrops

**Author's Note:**

> This has been an idea that I've always wanted to write for some time now but just haven't had the time to. Thank you to [Kaja](http://thatrandomlittlegirl.tumblr.com/) for being my beta!

Lily of the Valley. A promise of happiness.

_**“But…if you would allow me to, I swear to make you the happiest person in the world for as long as you stay by my side.”** _

Anemone. Betrayal and forsaken love.

_**“I can’t forgive you. There’s too much pain. I’m so sorry.”** _

Snowdrop. Hope, consolation, sympathy, rebirth, and purity.

_**“Of course. I’ve already forgiven you, Saeran.”** _

The swirl of flower petals drifted from her hands as she clutched her chest, breathing deeply, slowly, trying to get some air into her lungs.

She supposed this was her punishment. Her punishment for lying and betraying him for as long as she had.

For as long as she  _has._

The truth of the matter was that, after all this time, she still hadn’t learned to forgive him. And it was this guilt that constantly ate away her psyche, filling her with nothing but hatred towards herself for even daring to string along such a sweet boy.

Because that’s what she was doing. Stringing him along.

She had told him she loved and embraced all sides of him, no matter how harsh, but that was only a cruel and flimsy lie that she had said to try and convince herself. To convince herself that the kind boy with an affinity to flowers whom had come to rescue her was truth, while his cruel side was but an illusion brought forth by that poison forced down his throat.

He had promised her on multiple occasions that she would never get to see that side of him ever again. And he made good on that promise so far.

But she was still kidding herself when she said she wasn’t afraid of him.

It was still a side of him. A part of him that plagued her nightmares and caused the bouquet of her unspoken emotions to grow and wither her away from the inside.

Yet she could never truly bring herself to hate him.

She didn’t want to be the one to take his happiness away. He had suffered and toiled so much; what right did she have to strip that away from him when his only wish was to make her happy?

But it was ironic that his happiness and his wish was causing her downfall. Truly a fate that seemed hilariously sardonic in some twisted sense.

She truly hated this.

She hated the fact that she couldn’t forgive him. She hated the fact that she had initially lied to him. She hated the fact that she was still lying to him—he didn’t deserve this; he deserved better, so much better; someone better than her…!

Another coughing fit overtook her as a flurry of petals and blood left her mouth, staining the toilet seat’s pristine white with crimson. She could only stare at the petals that drifted onto the water with a hollowed expression.

She was going to die.

The only way to save herself was to hurt him.

…She was going to  _die._

* * *

It was getting worse.

As the strong smell of flowers and iron permeated the surroundings, petals and blood blanketing everything—the mirror, the sink, the floor—she realized that she couldn’t keep this charade up.

Looking at her haggard appearance staring back at her from the mirror—shaky arms desperately holding up a pale and frail frame; haunted eyes rimmed in shadows—she knew. 

Her time was almost up.

After all, keeping this secret from everyone, especially Saeran, was already a difficult task. With the pain and guilt eating away at her every second of the day, it was hard to conceal the sting of thorns wrapping around her lungs. It was hard to cover up the harsh coughs, growing more and more ragged as the days went by.

And it was especially hard choking down words that she wasn’t sure she truly believed yet told her dearest with a charming but hollow smile.

_“I accept and adore you, no matter what.”_

_“Of course I would never leave you.”_

_“I’m glad to be your light. You’re my everything as well.”_

_**“I love you so much, my darling snowdrop, please never forget that.”** _

Every time she spoke those loving words, a small part of herself knew that she wasn’t lying. She did truly love him with all her heart. And she was ever so glad to have him in her life. Was glad to see his shy smiles while being held in his loving arms as he whispered honeyed words back to her.

But the majority of her soul still refused to forgive and forget.

She couldn’t look at his smiles without seeing that malicious grin during those three days. She swore the adoration in his eyes sometimes twinkled into insanity as she recalled his cold glare, hands pinning her to the floor while he leered at her from above. Even the way his arms, so warm and secure, wrapped around her in an embrace would send shivers down her spine as the memory of his harsh grip on her shoulders brought back phantom pains.

The sheer thought of those days sent her reeling to the floor, curling in on herself as another violent attack consumed her.

She was shaking, trembling, as she wrapped her arms around herself in attempts to hold the shattered remains of her sanity together. Her vision danced back and forth between consciousness and the void. Tears were now flowing freely down her cheeks as the reality of her situation hit her.

It was too much. It was all too much.

She was going to die here and now.

Months of torturing herself like this were coming back with a vengeance. And while she knew there was always an easy way out— **‘be honest with Saeran and you can save your life!’** —she had already resigned herself to slowly withering away instead of breaking his heart.

After all the seasons spent by his side, she still couldn’t muster up the courage to tell him the truth.

Her sight was filled with nothing but once pure white petals tainted red, fluttering around her as she continued to choke on her emotions. The darkness drifted over her, the corners of the world fading in and out of obscurity.

It was time.

The flowers were now in full bloom.

She could only register the sound of a door slamming open and a figure blurred in white screaming her name before she fell into the abyss.


	2. Buried Forget-me-nots

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He knew that he was destined to never embrace Fate’s kind graces; they were just too sweet for someone as sullied as he was. He knew he didn’t deserve anything kind in his life. But even this was too cruel for him to handle.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I never wanted to finish this. I found poetic and sadistic satisfaction in leaving it unfinished. And honestly, had I not found a backup after I deleted everything in a fit of anger, it would have remained unfinished. But alas, here we are. Thank you to both @choisgirls and @thatrandomlittlegirl for beta-ing, but more importantly, not stopping this small ball of rage.

If there was one regret and blessing that he had in his life, it was meeting her.

Not because he despised her—no, he loved her with his entire being. She had saved him from himself, from a controlling guardian disguised as his savior, and guided him back to the world of light. She endlessly gave him the love he thought he would never have, always patient and encouraging towards anything he put his mind to. And for that he was forever grateful.

He would do anything for this woman. The last thing he ever wanted was to hurt her, even by accident.

And yet…

_**How can you say you truly love someone when you don’t even know anything about them?** _

That was a question that constantly plagued Saeran’s mind as he stared at the sleeping form of his beloved, lying cold and stark still.

The sterility of her hospital room reminded him of the whites of the petals in his arms—pure, blank, empty. Clean of any signs of injury. Meanwhile her expression— _a void expression, his mind whispered tauntingly, oh so emotionless now_ —was so peaceful and calm that he could almost, almost convince himself that this wasn’t real.

That none of this was truly real.

However, with each glance at her, he could see flashes from weeks prior run through his mind. The angry reds that coated her hands, her face, the floor, everywhere as he watched her collapse in a flurry of petals. The twist of pain that marred her features; the fear and regret that twinkled in her eyes as she fell over, barely whispering a word as he rushed forward to catch her. The fleeting warmth of her body as he held her close and screamed for her to wake up, to not leave him.

He could still remember the night following her surgery. The hushed conversations with doctors that looked down at him with pity still rung in his ears.

_“This is quite a rare strand of Hanahaki disease; we haven’t seen this strand in years, much less one of this severity.”_

_“This specific strand attacks a person in severe distress; a combination of self-loathing and unrequited love turned deadly without the right treatment in time.”_

_“ _I’m afraid that, with a case at this stage, we had no choice but to remove the flowers at the cost of her empathy.”__

_“You know, in our records, it says that this patient has been in and out on account of some heavy mental trauma that she was suffering from.”_

_**“Are you sure you knew her as much as you think you did, sir?”** _

The hands gripping the bouquet shook and trembled at the memories that tore his mind apart with anguish. His eyes shifted down to stare at the flowers, hoping for some distraction, anything to distract his tortured soul, but the pink-tinted petals did nothing to ease him.

They only taunted him as the whites shone up at him through the blood, under the sunlight streaming through the open window.

Anemones. Betrayal and forsaken love.

Snowdrops. Hope, consolation, sympathy, rebirth, and purity.

Lily of the Valley. A promise of happiness.

These were the cost of her sins— _were_  they her sins? Or were they his, since he caused her to suffer in silence for his own delusions?

After all, they were right. He knew nothing about her. Not her favorite color, her skills, nor what made her tick. But he was drawn to her—drawn to the way that she smiled with the brightness of her soul, the way that she carried herself with calm, unyielding kindness, never raising a hand towards him even in his darkest times.

And he thought that would have been enough.

Because, for years, he didn’t think he would ever get to see his family, much less would be able to get rid of his grief and hatred towards his brother and his guardian. Yet, she had held his hand gently, guiding him back to himself with nothing but encouraging words and soft embraces. A reunion with his brother, the both of them safe and sound for once in their lives, had never been possible. At least, not without her help.

She had taken the pieces of his soul, pieces that he thought couldn’t be fixed, and had magically mended them together to secure him a peace of mind.

They knew nothing of each other, but it seemed like she knew the right answers to his problems and generously took him into her embrace and showered him with love and affection that he so desired yet did not deserve.

And he was so enamored with the thought that someone loved him that he became selfish.

He wanted to be the one by her side. He wanted to be  _selfish_  for once in his life as he asked for her permission to make her happy, thinking that those eleven days spent together would be enough to become lovers. As if such a status could bridge the fact that they were still essentially strangers to one another. Or that it could replace the trauma, which stained their souls with scars and unwanted remembrances, with unmistakable love, similar to the one that she had shown him.

If he would have known that this was how it would have ended, he would have never asked her in the first place.

He loved her on the basis of infatuation clouding his vision, not once seeing her for who she truly was. Instead, he had fallen for the illusion of her in his mind; fallen for the girl that held her head high in the face of adversity, never wavering. The girl who could forgive even the most depraved of souls. The girl who looked at the positives in a world that was dark and so drearily cold.

But because of this, he failed to see how she flinched when he pulled her in for an embrace and rested his head into the crook of her neck. Failed to see how she left their shared bed in the middle of the night, the sound of choked sobs and petals following her as she quietly left to cope on her own. Never even realized that her eyes—eyes that were so  _bright_ , so  _expressive_ , so  _compassionate_ —were now so dim from when they first met, ringed in deep, dark circles that screamed of pains far beyond what any person should experience in a lifetime.

Hell, he never even noticed the way her smile wouldn’t reach her eyes as she told him  **“I love you.”**

So, in the end, how  _did_  he repay her kindness?

By breaking her beyond repair.

And the realization finally hit, causing him to break down in that little hospital room, tears falling down his cheeks with the all the guilt that ate him alive and tore him to shreds. Fingers grasped desperately at the flowers forged from her own heart and sorrows, almost as if doing so would bring her back; that he would feel her warmth under his fingertips instead of the sting of the truth ringing in the silence. But they only spelled out his mistakes so plainly for even someone as dense as him to see.

He did this. He’s the one who irrevocably destroyed her spirit.

He had blindly promised her a life of happiness by his side. A life filled with endless love and reverence. But as he stared at her broken figure, listening to the resounding beeps of the machine that struggled to keep her alive, he realized that all he gave her was a life of endless suffering.

It was entirely his fault. He had been selfish in ever thinking that he could love her.

And that was something that he couldn’t take back.

**Author's Note:**

> Lmaoooooooooooo. I'm not sorry. At all.


End file.
